After Us
by Noctis Lux
Summary: After Beacon. After the fighting. After the Grimm. After Us.


After Us

Once upon a time there were Hunters and Huntresses.

But we are getting ahead of ourselves. This story begins long before the rise of humanity's champions. This story begins with the birth of a race.

Man, born from dust, was strong, wise, and resourceful, but he was born into an unforgiving world. An inevitable darkness — creatures of destruction — the creatures of Grimm - set their sights on man and all of his creations. These forces clashed, and it seemed the darkness was intent on returning man's brief existence to the void.

However, even the smallest spark of hope is enough to ignite change, and in time, man's passion, resourcefulness, and ingenuity led them to the tools that would help even the odds. This power was appropriately named "Dust."

Nature's wrath in hand, man lit their way through the darkness, and in the shadow's absence came strength, civilization, and most importantly, life.

But even the most brilliant lights eventually flicker and die. And when they are gone... darkness will return.

However, there were once those that combatted the creatures of darkness. Who faced pain and death, but would push forward with the unstoppable will of man. A brave few that would give everything to preserve even the smallest embers of lights.

Once upon a time there were Hunters and Huntresses.

As the Grimm moved ever closer to extinguishing man, the best and brightest of the last generation of Hunter and Huntresses were faced with the daunting task of protecting humanity once more from the darkness. Much like their predecessors, they rose to the occasion. Unlike their predecessors, they won.

One victory turned into two, and then three, then four, five, and a few battles turned into a conquest. Each skirmish was a cataclysm; the earth would be rent and torn asunder. The skies would flash and burn while oceans boiled. Entire continents would be wiped off the map. Sacrifice and death followed the warring forces like shadows, never far behind a major clash. But for every Hunter or Huntress that fell to the darkness, countless Grimm would perish, brought low by the might of Hunters and Huntresses.

The hunt prolonged. Year after bloody year and, on numerous occasions, appeared to be locked in the same stalemate that many past generations had accomplished before. That is, until man gambled on one last desperate attempt to contain the Grimm threat. The last generation of Hunters and Huntresses were tasked with one final mission: Force the Grimm back underneath the massive labyrinth of catacombs and caves that ran underneath all of Remnant from which the dark beasts originated. The birth place of the Grimm would become their tomb.

But the Grimm would not go quietly.

The most skilled and accomplished Hunters and Huntresses would face off against the oldest and fiercest of Grimm in what would later be known in history books as the Last Battle. To say it was bloody and brutal affair would be a disservice to those that gave their lives for humanity's light. Nearly all of the Hunters and Huntresses present for the mission lost their lives. Those that did live were crippled and broken mentally or physically from the fight. Few survivors returned to civilization.

Yet successful they were. The Grimm were imprisoned deep below the earth, far from from humanity and even farther from the light. The creatures of Grimm were left to dig uselessly at dirt with nothing but their own foul presence and violent brethren.

Man, for the first time in it's existence, was allowed to flourish and grow unhindered. And they did not waste a single moment, for rebuilding what had been lost would take time.

Villages slowly began to dot across Remnant. Countries expanded their borders and people tentatively began to stretch beyond what they had lost.

But with the obvious threat gone, there was no more need for Hunters and Huntresses. Soldiers and police fought for their countries and kept the peace, but what use were those born to seek out darkness and fight it indiscriminate of government and politics. No, there was no more use for them at all. And so as Hunters began to fade and disappear, academies became training grounds for militaries and machines took the places that were once held by heroes. Champions that gave everything were soon forgotten and left to the legends.

The light of Humanity flourished as the Hunter's light died. Only darkness remains in the place it once filled

Once upon a time there were Hunters and Huntresses.

But not anymore.

* * *

I'm starting to think that I may have a problem.

Staring at the amber contents of my glass, I swirled the drink around with no intention of finishing off the perfectly good liquor. The downside of having a massive amount of aura was that it took an ungodly amount of substance abuse before you started to feel the effects of anything, be it pain killers, poison, or alcohol. It was actually really frustrating sometimes.

Maybe I'm a masochist. Why else would I keep coming back here? It's definitely not for the music, that's for sure. Thumping bass and electrifying techno drowned out the mummer of conversation around the club as dancers would jump, grind, and flow with the intoxicating beat. I could see the appeal of losing yourself to the music, and I used to be quiet the dancer myself, but nowadays I'd rather surrender to good old fashioned alcoholism and violence.

Yeah, that sounded healthy. I'll just keep thoughts to myself.

I absently touched the sword that hung at my waist just to hold onto something real. I needed something real. The weapon was a constant companion, but also a burden. My ancestors must've been masochists as well.

I then spotted familiar sets of green eyes and their owners as they approached the bar of the club. A wide smirk dawned across my face. And here I thought tonight would be uneventful, "Oh man, you two just keep looking better and better every time I come here. Hey, Melanie." I then nodded at the other woman dressed in red, "Miltia."

"Jaune," they echoed together, scrutinizing and observing like the trained fighters they were before Miltia broke the silence that was beginning to build. "Wish we could say the same for you."

"But you look like shit." Melanie finished without even missing a beat. They took up the spaces on opposite sides of me, effectively blocking any attempt to escape.

I laughed and raised the drink to my lips, "Yeah well, had a little trouble with my last job. Sorry if I'm not my usual handsome and confident self."

Melanie and Miltia shared a glance with each other behind my back, which you would have to be dead to not notice. Seriously? How dense do they think I am? Wait, never mind. I don't want an answer. It probably won't be flattering.

"What did you find?" Miltia asked, her tone guarded, as if not quite wanting to know the answer. Melanie leaned forward to hear my voice over the music. I had the brief feeling of an old story teller about to impart some profound wisdom, but then I remembered that I was supposed to be a hunter and was only twenty-eight and not wise at all.

Instead, I shrugged, "Sorry sweetheart, that's not my secret to tell. Junior will let you in on it all later. Y'know… probably. If he feels like it." I quickly downed the burning alcoholic drink, awaiting and dreading the coming explosion of insults.

"Excuse you?" "Do you think he won't tell us?" Melanie and then Miltia said one after the other like clockwork. I refused to believe that they didn't rehearse speaking in sync like this. At the very least it had to be some sort of semblance. There was no way magic wasn't involved. Twin mind meld or something freaky like that. Hmm… would actually be pretty useful in combat. Maybe I shouldn't be so demeaning and bitchy?

Nah, what am I thinking. Sarcasm and eye rolling make up half my personality. I can't lose that, I'ld be nothing.

"Well, I'm sure you two can work him over. And while you're at it, tell him this was a one time deal. I hate working with criminals, convicted or otherwise." I knew I had said the wrong thing the moment the two started grinning like a pair of cats that caught the canary. The kind of sickly sweet smiles that promised nothing but misfortune.

"Look who's talking." Melanie smirked as Militia pulled out her scroll and turned it towards me to display the screen. On it, was a picture with a bounty posted underneath it for a very hefty amount of lien. The photo was out of date and out of focus on the small screen but the person was still easily recognizable.

"Jaune Arc: Wanted, 1,000,000 lien alive." Miltia grinned. "Not many innocent people get bounties on their heads."

Melanie examined her finger nails with a smug look of satisfaction, "I think yours might be bigger than Torchwick's."

"You would know," I grinned because really, that innuendo was just too easy. The smug expression was replaced with pure, unadulterated fury that promised castration. Sidestepping her telegraphed kick to the crotch, I swiped Militia's upheld scroll to better examine the wanted poster. A frown slowly marred my features. This wasn't right. Jaune Arc had been assumed killed in action with the rest of team JNPR years ago. There shouldn't have been anyone looking for me.

"What about the others? They get one of these too or am I just special?" A lot of hunters went underground after… well everything. There just weren't enough of us left. There was a standing bounty on any hunter or huntress that could be 'secured' alive. Hunters were a valuable resource after all. Not many other people were formerly trained in handling and combatting aura. Not to mention any hunter worth his or her salt was equal to an entire battalion of soldiers. The fact that they had a bounty specifically of me, though, that was troubling. It could mean nothing, but why would Remnants' councils waste money printing bounties of a dead man?

There was one hunter I could go to for information. One of the few of us that hadn't left the public eye. But in all fairness, she had grown used to the scrutiny that accompanied the spotlight years ago.

Miltia shrugged, "Don't know, don't care. Your problem now, Mr. Big Game Hunter."

I nodded absently, too lost in thought to really care. It _was_ my problem now. And I had to decide how to deal with it. Tossing Miltia's scroll back to her, I adopted a cheeky grin, "Thanks girls. Think I better call it a night. Looking like a long day tomorrow." I turned on heel and started walking.

Only to be intercepted by a slightly less haughty Melanie, "We told you something you wanted to know. It's only right that you return the favor."

"Technically I didn't _want_ to know I was a wanted man. Kinda messes up the vacation I had planned so…" I scratched behind my head, looking anywhere but at the woman in front of me. "How 'bout we just call it even?"

"Uh do we look cheap to you?" That was a loaded question. Don't answer.

"Alright alright. Don't get your expensive clothes in a bunch." Shrugging, I ran a hand through blond hair, "Junior had a tip on subterranean Grimm movement. I was bored. Went to take a quick peek. Turned out to be nothing."

"You made a lot of fuss over nothing." Miltia sounded, moving from behind to stand by her sister.

Another shrug, "What can I say? I love seeing you two squirm." I didn't bother wondering why they were so curious, I already knew the answer. They were afraid.

They had a right to be. The whole world was still reeling from the lack of Grimm. Hell, there were days that I couldn't believe it and I had been one of the people building the proverbial dam to hold back the tide of red eyed nightmares. And with how few hunters there were, the world couldn't afford to see a resurgence of Grimm. But Grimm fed off negativity and if people knew how flimsy the barrier was between them and the monsters…

No, it would never get to be as bad as it once was. We had lost too much already. We won't lose anymore. "Hey, everything's fine. The Grimm aren't going anywhere."

So I'll smile and say that everything was going to be fine even though it wasn't.

"You're a terrible liar, Jaune Arc." Melanie stated somberly, crossing her arms.

I chuckled, "Well, that's just your opinion. I think I'm a great liar." Yet their troubled expressions refused to fade from the Malachite sisters, so I put an hand on their shoulders and tried to reach back into that well of empathy I once possessed. It was there somewhere, buried deep deep down. Probably deeper than the Grimm. "Relax, alright? We hunters aren't as rare as you might think. We'll handle any stray Grimm that makes it to the surface. You two just worry about keeping Junior out of trouble."

Tentatively, they both nodded in response. None of my words had really set them at ease, I could tell, but it was a something.

With a smirk and a lazy two finger salute, I moved past them, "Good, see you around." And I made my way out of the club.

Looks like I had an appointment with an old friend. Maybe General Schnee will be happy to see me? Heh, yeah right. A man can dream.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Probably won't continue this. I really just wanted to write that overdramatic introduction.**


End file.
